Risking It All for the Children's Doc Read online

  Despite a quick thrill of elation, she tensed. “I’ve already resigned my position there.” She’d had reasons she needed to make that cut swift and final. One of which was Jim. Besides, leaving had spurred her to work hard to find another position. It had also removed the possibility of being known as the doctor whose sister had OD’d on opioids.

  “So you can start immediately?”

  “Yes. I’ll need a day off in about a week when my parents fly down, and I need to find a place to stay and a...” She shook her head, almost blurting out that she’d need to find a day care for Alia. It wasn’t that she was hiding the fact that she was raising her niece, but she also didn’t want to jinx her chances. Not when she was so close to fulfilling her goal.

  “Great. Any questions? Anything else you’d like me to know?”

  She swallowed, throwing a quick glance at Ellis before turning her attention back to the administrator. “I’ve toyed with some ideas for a community drug-abuse-prevention initiative, if you’d care to look at it.”

  “In that notebook you’re carrying?” At her nod, he added, “Indeed I would. Why don’t you leave it with me, and I’ll glance at it after my scheduled meetings.”

  “Jack, don’t you think we should be careful about just—”

  Dr. Lawson cut off Ellis. “We will. But we’ve got that big grant earmarked for the children’s unit. I’d say drug-use prevention could merit at least some of those funds.”

  Uh-oh. An inner voice told her the pediatrician already had his own plans for the grant money they’d received. She did not want to go head-to-head with him. At least not right away. “Please look it over and make sure it fits in with the hospital’s plans for the community. The last thing I want is to seem like I’m coming in here with an agenda.”

  Ellis’s head swiveled toward her.

  Okay, so maybe she did have an agenda. But it was important to her.

  “I like to know where my hospital staff’s interests lie.” Dr. Lawson reached a hand toward her, and she put the notebook in it, sending up a quick prayer that her arguments were persuasive and well laid out. Sometimes she let her emotions get ahead of her...at least, according to Jim.

  Dr. Lawson’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Do you have everything you need? The hospital has some overnight apartments, if you need to stay in one for a while.”

  “Thank you. I’m having my furniture shipped to me as soon as I officially have the position. And I do have a place to stay temporarily.” She didn’t mention that it was a hotel room.

  “Like I said, consider the position yours. Let us know if you need help moving in.”

  Us? Her eyes tracked back to the pediatrician. She seriously doubted he would be willing to help. Besides, she didn’t have much more than a set of bedroom furniture, a sofa and a dining-room table, along with a twin bed she’d purchased for Alia. Her mom was going to stay with her for a week or two to help her get settled and to stand in the gap while she looked for a preschool.

  “Thanks again. I’m very happy to be here.”

  “Great. Ellis, can you show Lyric around and take her by Human Resources to finish the process? She’ll need a lanyard as well as a sticker for her vehicle.”

  Lyric glanced again at the head of Pediatrics and found him with a frown. He hadn’t known he was going to be playing babysitter and wasn’t happy about it. “If you have other things to do, I’m sure someone in HR can give me a map.”

  “No, it’s fine. We need to sit down, anyway, and have a talk about...expectations.”

  The slight emphasis on that word made a shiver go through her.

  “Ellis, you go easy on her. She hasn’t even started yet.”

  He gave the administrator a tight smile. “Don’t worry. I plan to treat Dr. Westphal with the same kid gloves as the rest of the staff.”

  Lawson gave a quick snort of laughter. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He turned his attention to Lyric. “Don’t worry. His bark is much worse than his bite.”

  She doubted that. She bet his bite was every bit as bad. Maybe even worse. So what she needed to do was stay out of reach of those pearly whites and concentrate on doing her job until she could prove herself to him. She tossed her head and gave the pediatrician a look. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

  And she intended to do that. No matter how maddeningly attractive the man was. Or the fact that being “bitten” by him had just taken on a whole new—and entirely dangerous—meaning.

  * * *

  Ellis sucked down a deep breath and tried to hold onto his temper. Temper mostly directed at himself. Ever since he’d run in to the new doctor in the lobby and she’d fastened those darkly lashed eyes on him, he’d been on edge, his attention drawn to her again and again. Even now there was a steely cord that pulled at something in his gut, making him notice little things about her, like the way her nose turned up at the tip and the dot of a beauty mark that sat just beside her left eye.

  Not good. He was rarely drawn to anyone, especially not the people he worked with. That character trait—some would say character flaw—was so deeply ingrained that it had become comfortable. A safety zone that people didn’t venture beyond. Or if they did happen to wander past that boundary, it didn’t take long for them to retreat as quickly as they’d come.

  The fact that Lawson might look at the ideas in her notebook and decide those were a better use of the funds than the equipment he’d requisitioned...well, that didn’t help. The grant money wasn’t endless. He’d always been a fan of requesting tangible items that could be used time and time again, rather than programs whose efficacy couldn’t be measured or that were a one-time push that would be over in a flash.

  Was there a drug problem in Atlanta? Yes, just like every major city across the United States. Did initiatives help? Possibly, but Ellis had always had difficulty with things that were subjective in nature. Another “perk” of his childhood.

  “I need to run by my office to get something, and we can have that quick chat while we’re there.”

  She seemed to stiffen beside him. “Listen, I brought those ideas as just that. Ideas. I’m not trying to take over. I had no way of knowing that the pediatric department had just received a grant.”

  He believed her. He’d wondered if Jack had mentioned the money during their phone interview. But her gaze was steady. “I was just surprised you brought a proposal with you. Did you spearhead an effort in Las Vegas, as well?”

  “No.” She paused, her hair sliding forward to hide that freckle beside her eye. “But I wish I’d done more to address the drug problems when I lived there.”

  Her voice was so soft he almost missed the words.

  “May I ask why?”

  She shrugged. “Because we can’t just rely on rehab programs. People sometimes go through that process multiple times and then fall right back into the same old habits—slide into the same damaged friendships. Rehab programs are a great tool, but they can’t be the only one we use. I believe we need to break the cycle of addicts returning to old patterns. We need to help them form new connections. New friendships. Strong ones. Far from the drug culture. Help them find new jobs. Form new patterns of behavior through training, behavioral modification, medication. Whatever it takes.”

  He’d done the behavioral-modification route as a child. They’d even tried to teach him how to attach to people. But although Maddie had tried, he could see now that she’d been grieving, too, and had been focused on suddenly being thrust into the role of a single mom.

  His instinct was to brush past Lyric’s words, but she spoke with a conviction that made him stop and take a closer look at her.

  “Once Jack is done with your notebook, I’d like to take a look at it, as well. I can’t promise to change my mind, and I’ll be honest and say that I already have plans for that money.”

  “I thought maybe you did. It doesn’t have to be right away. I just wanted to let people know that this is something I’m passionate about.”

  His various counselors had been, too. But in the end, old patterns seemed to be too ingrained, the fabric of his life already woven. And now he didn’t even try to change that—didn’t want to.

  He started walking again. “I can tell you are.” Ellis thought there might be more to it than what she’d said, but he wasn’t going to pry. Not yet. And since she leaned toward behavioral endocrinology, it made sense that she might look at addictive behavior in a way that others might not. His own childhood experiences with behavioral modification were tied to unhappy memories.

  Five minutes later, they were in his office, which was a bit more plush than he would have chosen if he’d had any say in the decor. But Jack had reiterated what the higher-ups had already said. They wanted the hospital as a whole to have a welcoming feel. That included any space where one might encounter patients or their families, and since he did meet with people in his office, he really hadn’t been able to argue, even if he would have preferred a metal desk and simple folding chairs.

  Instead there was a warm brown leather love seat with red throw pillows. He saw her glance trail around the room and wondered how those brown eyes were processing it. Did she see the decor as a waste of funds, like he did?

  Finally she blinked and looked back at him. “Very nice.”

  “Have a seat. How different is New Mercy from your hospital in Las Vegas?”

  “Pretty different. Las Vegas is a show world, so I think the city as a whole has a glitzy image to uphold. Including the hospital I worked at.”

  So her old hospital had been even more ostentatious than New Mercy? “And here I was wondering if you’d be
uncomfortable with the money spent on decorating.”

  She shrugged. “It’s part of today’s medicine, I think. I’d be just as happy in a supply closet, though.”

  That surprised him. “So would I.”

  She smiled. “Wow. It looks like we agree on something. Finally.”

  Yes, it did, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Having an adversarial relationship with her seemed the less complicated path right now. Maybe he should try to hold on to that for as long as possible.

  He rounded his desk and dropped into the high-backed office chair. “So it would seem.”

  They spent the next twenty minutes discussing the normal workings of the hospital and some of the research she’d done on addictive personality disorder. He was surprised that the dopamine used to treat some of the symptoms of Parkinson’s were now suspected of causing gambling addictions in some of those same patients.

  “I think I knew on some level that there could be a hormonal link in addiction, but I’ve not studied it enough to form an opinion one way or the other,” he said.

  He’d often wondered if attachment disorders were a result of more than just childhood trauma. Maybe some people were just wired that way. Like him.

  “Behavioral endocrinology is pretty interesting. But it’s impossible to say which came first. Drug use can also cause physical changes in the brain, which perpetuate addiction. So after the issue has been dealt with through rehab, a new form of addiction might pop up, like gambling or even eating disorders.”

  That made sense.

  “Someday we’ll have to have an in-depth discussion on that.” And that had nothing to do with the way her eyes sparkled when she talked, or the way she leaned toward him when trying to make a point. It was almost worth trying to play devil’s advocate just to keep the conversation going, except he didn’t want to like anything about her. He hadn’t been in favor of hiring her in the first place, felt like the department ran pretty smoothly without adding another cog in the machine. And he wasn’t really interested in changing his opinion just yet.

  Time to shift to a different subject. “You mentioned needing to find a place to stay. Have you met with a Realtor yet? Depending on what part of the city you want to live in, one-bedroom apartments are a little harder to find. I could give you the name of the person I used.”

  “That would be great. But I need a two-bedroom place. Not one.”

  She sounded like that was nonnegotiable. Was she planning on getting a roommate? Or maybe she had a child. He hadn’t even thought of that. Or maybe she just needed an extra room. Whatever her reasons, it was none of his business.

  He scrolled through his list of contacts until he reached the right entry. “Do you want to put the number in your phone?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” She grabbed her purse and retrieved the phone from a front pocket. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  He read off the number. “His name is Dave Butler and he’s with Great Properties Real Estate. He’s a friend of mine.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Any tips about which areas I should look in?”

  “It depends on how long you want your commute to be. As you saw this morning, traffic can be heavy.”

  Her fingers went to a simple stud earring, twisting it one way and then another. “I’m not so much worried about the commute as I am about the...”

  “The...?”

  “I would like it to be in a good—as in fewer drugs—school system. It won’t be as important now as it will be in the next year or so.”

  The next year?

  He knew she was single. That much had come out during his discussion with Jack. But if she was pregnant, shouldn’t he know that she might need to take a leave of absence at some point? She hadn’t volunteered the information, and he wasn’t sure he was even legally allowed to ask about it. If she wanted him—or anyone else to know—she would tell him.

  And, in reality, he didn’t want to know. The less he knew about Lyric’s personal life, the better. He wasn’t quite sure why that was the case, but some primal instinct was telling him to keep his distance from this one. Kind of hard to do when he would be working so closely with her. Possibly even warring with her about how that grant money was going to be spent.

  But still...

  “Is there something I should know?” he asked.

  The fingers fiddling with her ear paused for a few seconds—seconds that told him volumes, although she probably didn’t realize it. She didn’t want to tell him, but was trying to think through her decision.

  “Maybe. I didn’t mention it, because I don’t anticipate it affecting my work in any major way.”

  She took a deep breath and then the words came out so fast his brain had time processing them.

  “I have a four-year-old who’ll need to be enrolled in a good preschool.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  A QUICK SUCCESSION of emotions scrolled across his face, the last of which was shock. “You have a...child?”

  She forced her hand away from her ear and back into her lap, then clasping her hands tightly “Yes. And no. She’s my niece. She’ll be living with me—permanently. My mom will be bringing her as soon as I find a place to live. Which is why I want to locate a preschool that’s not too far from my apartment.”

  This was something she’d be having to explain time and time again. But it was probably important for him to know where she was coming from. She twined her fingers together until they hurt, willing herself not to let him see the chaotic frenzy of emotions that were tumbling through her system. “My sister died of a drug overdose six months ago. I’ve been helping to care for her child on and off ever since she was born.”

  He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his desk. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  The earnest words, coming from a man who’d seemed hard as nails for most of their hour together, caused a dangerous prickling sensation to gather behind her eyes. Damn. She did not want to cry in front of him. She wanted to be just as distant and unreachable as he seemed to be, except she just wasn’t good at playing those kinds of games.

  And she missed her sister. So very badly. Had missed her even before she died.

  “Tessa went through various rehab facilities and nothing seemed to stick. Her experiences were why I changed my focus from simple pediatric endocrinology to behavioral endocrinology. If some of my sister’s addiction patterns could have been redirected while she was still in her teens or even younger, maybe her life wouldn’t have played out like it had. And I want to make sure Tessa’s daughter doesn’t feel abandoned. Either by me or by the system.”

  “Abandoned. I can see how she might feel that way.”

  Did he? Or was he just giving a conventional response because he didn’t know what else to say? But when she looked into his green eyes, there was a dark flash of something she didn’t understand. She chalked it up to an unattached man who had no clue about the struggles people like Tessa, or now, Alia, went through.

  Except she didn’t know if he was unattached. Nor did she care.

  “So that’s why I’m so interested in looking beyond the hospital and into the community, to see how I can make a difference.”

  “And if you can’t make a difference?”

  His words stopped her in her tracks. Was that what he thought? That it was a hopeless cause? She hoped not, because they definitely would not get along if that was the case. What it would do, however, was make her second-guess her decision to move to Atlanta and apply at this hospital.

  “What do you think the answer is, then?”

  “I have no idea, honestly. I treat the patients who cross my path. Period.”

  She blinked. Did he even realize how cold that sounded?

  “So you have no interest in trying to change things? In trying to prevent some of those patients from ever needing to cross your path?”

  “It’s not that I’m not interested. I would just need to look at studies before diving into something I have no knowledge of.”